


The Darkness within.

by angamablackbird



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angamablackbird/pseuds/angamablackbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all have some darkness within. You just need someone who will trigger it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkness within.

Sometimes, if you knew which one of the windows in the building of Baker Street you were looking to, you could see a couple of men who apparently were very different. One of them was short-haired and had bright blue eyes. He had broad shoulders and was a bit short for his constitution. His hair had been blonde, but was now mostly grey and you could see all of his wrinkles above his eyebrows, and all around his eyes and mouth. The other one was taller and skinnier, and had pitch-black curly hair and eyes that appeared to be of every colour, and which never missed a thing. His lips had the most intense cupid arch one could see and he always dressed in a suit, or something elegant, except when he was, of course, just wearing a sheet.   
Today happened to be purple shirt day, apparently. That purple shirt was so tight to his chest that sometimes John, the first of our mysterious men, though one button would eventually crash into his eyes at such a speed it would kill him. That hadn’t happened yet, though, so he would just stare at the shadowy man without letting him realize.  
Sherlock did realize though. It was all over John’s expression what made him be confused himself. They had been living together for three years now, what was different in his partner not-so-in-crime expression that had changed so much? All the signs and deductions were already pointing somewhere but Sherlock had no intention on believing them.   
He steadily turned to him with his exasperated you-know-nothing-John-Watson face. 

-Well, of course he didn’t killed her, John, that is obvious. –Sherlock sighed, wanting this conversation to end so he could keep up with his other investigations.

-But I don’t understand what the hell happened then! –he was wearing an old cable-knit jumper, a present from a past ex-girlfriend. To be honest, this was the only thing he remembered about her. 

-How could he have killed her, John? –Sherlock took a big step towards his blogger and decided to let him explain himself. Mostly, anyway.

-Because. Because he had all over his face a guilty expression, because his alibi doesn’t work, because she was rich, so he could just fly somewhere far away with all her money, because…-Sherlock didn’t allow him to continue, he just rolled his eyes a put a hand on his face so he would stop talking. Literally.

-You’re missing the obvious once again, my dear idiotic Watson –the other man proceeded to bit his fingers so he just put his hand back in place in one of the sides of his slim body-. He was…well, attracted to her, he wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. 

-You do not stop from killing someone because they ‘attract’ you-. He was using his mocking voice. Sherlock hated that voice, and the how is eyebrows lifted so his eyes where so much more visible and outstanding. The younger man shook his head. That was not the right moment to pay attention to his mate’s eyebrows. What’s more, he should never pay attention to those little things that happened in John’s face. Not now, not ever. 

-You are missing the point again, John. He wasn’t just attracted to her. There was something more, he was…he was in…Oh, what the hell, you know what I mean-. John absolutely did, but something in the way Sherlock’s eyes sparkled with shyness when he didn’t want to say the word were just more encouraging to keep his silence. 

-He was in…what, Sherlock? Was he…in trouble? Maybe in…a mental state that didn’t let himself think so he would end up killing her?-. He was about to continue when he saw Sherlock slowly wet his lips, getting them ready to say the ‘word’.

-No, John. He was in love-. There was something in the way he said that, equalling the tone of John’s name with the last word that made the short man shiver. He took a step towards the detective and was ready to say everything that had been stuck inside him for so long it just hurt keeping it for himself any longer, when he saw the door was opened and the scarf and coat of Sherlock Holmes were gone, and so was him. 

A shadow rushed out from 221B Baker Street. The midday lights stole golden sparkles from the detective's dark hair.   
Sherlock Holmes got out putting his scarf around his neck, easily, without the slightest trouble. He started to think. He needed to, but his imbecile flatmate wouldn't let him. He mused for a second which way it'd be. Left or right. He made the choice, shaking his head, trying to focus on the case, thinking about all the possibilities.   
He was in the middle of an alley before he even realised.   
The skinny man was just making his way through it when he noticed something, someone leaning against one side. His arms crossed, head down, a bit tilted to one side. Thinking. Or maybe balancing his options. He wore strange clothes, made out of leather and pieces of steel. The coat didn't look...quite human. The whole man didn’t. Sherlock tried to read him, but he wasn’t able to, not even when the man looked up at him. There was something in those eyes that Sherlock could not understand and it was driving him mad. He frowned, holding the man’s stare, holding that blue gaze that was telling him so many things and yet none. 

-Who are you?-asked the consulting detective. The other man smirked, to what Sherlock raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.  
Instead, the strange man grabbed Sherlock’s neck tightly, lifting him up, not allowing him to react, letting a giggle scape through his curved lips that surrounded a smiling but yet scary mouth. The detective tried to fight back, but the grip kept denying him air to breathe.

-Who are you?-the voice came out like a whisper, like the last sigh a man´s lets scape before dying in the arms of his killer, which actually was nearly the same thing that was happening at the moment. The man laughed again, making Sherlock feel that something was wrong with him. Very, very wrong. 

-My name is Loki of Asgard. And I think I’m going to be your killer –another giggle. Another laughter. Sherlock fought his need of just letting everything go, but eventually he passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend's the co-author of this work, though she's not registered. She's in tumblr, though: wokieessingingharekrishna.tumblr.com
> 
> And so do I! yesitiscanon.tumblr.com
> 
> Do leave a comment or a question  
> Thanks everyone x


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